Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
  Apr 2018 smokey basil
Anne Sexton
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.

It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die:

into that rushing beast of the night,
****** up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.
smokey basil Apr 2018
The devil lives inside your head and
causes tidal waves of evil destruction
that crash and burn into flames.

The devil creeps into your sleep,
disturbs the tortured mind,
and makes himself smile with delight.

They are certainly no sorts of a dream,
but they still manifest
in forms of painful mental images
during the seemingly muted
hours of sleep
that excruciatingly exceed
the pain of any nightmare.

One night...

I arrived in a mansion.
It had a big, dark dining room
and upstairs were the white
walls and halls.
In the corner was
my cousin, stabbed and
her tiny three-year body
hidden under a blue blanket.

they also came after me but
before I could break away,
I was shot.
and I died.
and I walked around
like a lonely ghost,
floating and
nothing hurt.

One night...

I got to the airport
and boarded the plane.
Something was wrong.
I said goodbye to
everyone and watched
the others' planes take off.

they were consumed by
fire and shattered,
plunging to the ground.
Somehow, I stayed on my plane.

We took off and
the last things I saw
were your classic royal blue
sweatshirt with a
burning face above it
and the beautiful, blue sky
ahead of me.

One night...

I appeared in huge house
of crazy paths in the
middle of nowhere.
I tried so hard to leave,
but I would have been
slaughtered by the landlord.

I slowly walked around
in circles for what felt like
I couldn't get out.
Despair hungrily attacked and took over
so the only effort I chose to make
was the effort to drown myself.

One night...

We were in your bedroom, waiting.
Where were you?
Your drunk mother sat on the
ottoman in the living room,
giving us a disgusted look.

We fled to the basement
and found you playing
video games.
Your aunt sat in a chair
off to the side holding her
untended broken wrist and
abused by her sister.
You had red marks down your arms.

Then your mother
came downstairs in a rage
and your aunt flew out
the sliding door
along with all of us.

The devil makes his hushed exit
And says goodnight

Until the next time.
this is really long and was scary to write, but it was so worth it.
smokey basil Apr 2018
i let your hand go, softly,


we parted our
separate ways.

the tracing in the sand
was washed away by
the foamy edges
of the gentle waves.

the driftwood
was swept out by
the misty tide
and off the shore

away from the
salty coast,
into the eternal,
pristine sea.

the violin solo was
carried by the breeze
and the tubas dove
deeper into their octave

the final breath of your name
touched my tongue,
and it was our
final goodbye.
smokey basil Apr 2018
vision is all
swirly whirly.
everything is
thrown off.
perception and
proportion are
messed up.

hand is reaching
seven feet away
across the room.
head is
the size of
five balloons.
wrist is
half an inch in

i am
but my
foot is
now i am
and i
and i barely
fit in
the bed.
the floor is
and the walls
are moving all
around me.

get me out of
this wonderland
of lies.
it is too
too scary,
and i can't sleep
i might re-edit this one in the future.
smokey basil Apr 2018
i am sitting on a cobalt blue stool
in your placid, dull kitchen
with my head in my hands.
you're gone.

there is a hazy
veil of grey
that covers the late
afternoon sky
and a stagnant silence
stretching to the ceiling.

everything is still;
the empty glass
in front of the
vacant violet vase
your ill-fitting
jean jacket
that is lying on the
dark wood.

my stomach crawls around.
my eyes are almost shut.
my legs are numb.
you are not here.

only the clock ticks,

and tocks.
It's been a couple of weeks since I've written but I have a lot of drafts I'll hopefully finish soon.
  Apr 2018 smokey basil
I care
about you

It’s not like I earn
something from it

I help you with schoolwork
don’t you think
I have enough on my plate
don’t you think I’ve got enough to do
on my own
I volunteer to help you,

It’s not like I acquire
something from it

When you get better grades
than me,
you want me
to be jealous

But all I am
is proud
All I am
is happy
for you

It’s not like
it makes a difference
to you

I try
to always be there
for you
when you need
you rarely do
still, I try being good
I try being good enough

Even then,
I’m a horrible human being
I know
it was just
a joke
But did you realise
how much
it hurt?

In the aftermath,
there was no apology
no regret
just the laughter and joy
you find
in mocking me

Then why?
Why do I stay?
It’s not like I gain
something from it

Some days
you treat me
like a princess
you treat me
like garbage

I wish we could go back
to before
when I was your queen

I feel pathetic
for still being here
for still trying to fix it
for still trying to fix us
and you won’t even tell me
if you still want me
if you still want me to fix us

Why do I
keep trying
It’s not like I obtain
something from it

Maybe it’s passion
maybe it’s negligence
maybe it’s just pathetic
call it whatever you want

I call it love
but then again
maybe there is
no such thing
as love

Tell me,
is it worth it?
are you worth fighting for,
are we worth fighting for?
Should I give up
should I let go
or should I keep

Most importantly, though
am I worth it
to you?
Will you keep trying
for me?
Are you giving up?
about my current relationship
  Apr 2018 smokey basil
the wallflower
Hate is a disgusting feeling
Booms of disdainful words sound in echos
Doors slamming shut
Breaking the bridge we kept for each other
Foul tongued beasts
Sniping sentiments laced in cruelty
A mind acting on resentment
A mouth acting on molten anger
However a heart with a lack of empathy
Strains to keep from cutting ties
Bonded so thoroughly
Woven so tight
That only a feeling strong enough could alter them
Let alone sever them
This feeling is hate
i hate hating and i hate being hated . why did ******* eve have to eat that ****** apple
Next page